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Volume X
= Enigma: Story of an Obsession = Introduction It's so bright. The lights of this room are nothing like the one of my office. But I can't tell. I can't tell if this is day or night. Because it's all just an unberale silence everytime my eyes open from this empty sleep that seem to take my consiousness away out of nowhere. I can't feel myself. I can't move. I can't talk. I can't live anymore. This is a very scary place. This confort, these soft bedsheets and everything here. It's too much to make me feel at ease. I just want to be in my office. No... I want to be in the basement of my parent's home. I want them to call me over. I want them to yell at me. I want to... I want to want to die. I don't know how old I am anymore. I don't even remember why I am in this hospital room anymore. I don't think I'm sick. But how could I tell. Being awake is such a pain. I can barely move, I can’t think clearly. I guess I’ll just get back to sleep and forget everything. Once again. Once More. Once and forever. I lay my head down on the awfully soft pillow and close my eyes. Finding myself into the darkness of the present time. My skin is cold and my soul is so lonely. Dad, Mom, are you listening at my suffering now? I have no more friend nor family waiting for me out there. So all I’m waiting for now is just to feel this emptyness forever. Put myself at rest. Just that I keep waking up. Everyday, or Night. I can’t tell. Elementary School Who Am I? My name is *Author. I was born in the Philipines, adopted at the age of 9 months by a Canadian Family. I found myself living in the Province all of my childhood. Living in a regular little town, with a regular family of two parents and an older sister. I’ve started elementary school at 5 year old like every other child my age. Not that I wanted to, but I wasn’t against it either. I was just a child assuming reality. So much people. Teachers and students were everywhere. I was not interested in them at all. I didn’t especially want to befriend them, but they all seem to like me. Or mostly were just curious to see who I was. Probably because of my physical differences of origins. Whilst all the kids were using their free time to play outside. Playing soccer and other sports, I was inside by myself, playing with legos and drawing awful stuff. This didn’t bother me. Even as a child, this loneliness was fine by me. I think I heard about it on Tv. A show called foster house of imaginary friends. I thought having imaginary friends was the norm for kids. Like if I had to have one to be normal. An original one. But I couldn’t seem to be finding one. So I tried to draw it. Then I ended up creating a world. An Imaginary world where I could find myself escaping to when life was getting to boring. The world I developped at night, as if I would read myself a bedtime story. At night, I would develloppe this world and during day I would live within it throught my drawings. One day, I found out what was bullying. Someone came to me and harrassed me on my behaviors. Saying stuff like, drawing was for girls and boys should be playing sport outside. Which is dumb, but was actually sort of a childish standart. The thing is that I was also a child at this point in my life. And I was actually influenced by those standarts. I ended up leaving my habit of drawing inside to play in the yard with the other boys. My presence seemed to be quite welcomed actually. I wasn’t really good as I never really played much sport like… ever. But it really wasn’t that bad. Yet, I didn’t really stand out among the others. I was a underdog, sort of. Now that I think about it, that one guy who later became my best friend was actually using me as an ego booster. He threated me nice and played with me. I followed him because this is was I was told to do. I didn’t quite understand why someone like him wanted to befriend me so much. He was better at sport than me, he was better at studies than me and was more popular than me aswell. But overall, I felt appreciated. He was the gate way to relationships with other potential friends. I got a taste to what having friend was and I actually enjoyed it. I wanted to talk to his other friends. I wanted to play with groups. And I could, only when he was around. Because he was the gate way in between me and others. Well, that’s what I thought. With time, I got better at sport. I became more social. I could open myself to other quite well now. But that one guy. For some reason he was my best friend. And if I became to socially independent, he would stop. That’s when he started retraining me. From talking to others, playing with others and being better than im at sport. I guess he was only using me as a weaker side kick to make himself look better than he was. I was used and I didn’t like it. I was annoyed. So I punch him. I guess this was the first time I ever punched anyone. This feeling was great. The pain my knuckles had at this particular instant. I felt like it was twice as painful in his face, where I punched him. This punch honestly changed all my life, now that I think about it. This punch, may even be the starting point, of my life. Thid wasn’t without consequenses. My parents were told and the direction of the school aswell. But no real action were put in place. So I didn’t feel quite guilty about it. It felt very good, and what I got out of it. Was nothing more than positivity. This punched broke the chain in between me and this awful person that once called my best friend. Soon after, some other girls and boys thanked me for doing it. Apparently, this guy I’ve looked up to for a few year was seen as a massive braggy prick. Which may also be one of the reason he wanted to keep me all for himself. Because he couldn’t make other real friends aswell. So everyone who disliked him automatically became my friends. I started becoming popular in the schoolyard. I could be free to socialise with anyone, even thought I still wasn’t completly comfortable with it. One day, a little group came up to me and gave me a request. They remembered how I punched the other guy and wanted me to get involved into a fight for them. I had nothing against it. That was who I was and what people expected from me. I came up to the one they wanted me to fight against. This one person had nothing against me. But he was mad, mad at the ones who called me up. This wasn’t my conflict, I didn’t even know what it was about. But they wanted me to fight and that’s what I did. Oddly enough, me, that was a shut in loner. Actually have been able to beat him in a fist fight. This is a point where my ego boosted out the radar. I was the strong kid. I was not good at sport, I was not an elit at school either, but I was the one able to punch the hardest. For some reason. For years and years, In elementary school, my popularity went up due to my level of violence. People wanted me on their side. People wanted me to help them. But I was alone. I was the one. The only One. The Lonely One. I became just the one able to give services. But once we grew older, I was not needed anymore. People became mature enough to see that beating the hell out of eachothers were not nessecarly anymore. I was still popular, but not needed. I realised how becoming free made me become lonely. I got bored and came back to hide into my drawings. I evolved a story within this world. Where I no longer have to parttake inside it but now could just get even more freedom. In this world, I had to create characters. I managed to create a few, but noone of them was actually that interesting.